aerialiste



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  1. Rec 53

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    Summary

    There's a story and it goes like this.

    Series
    Language:
    English
    Words:
    51,270
    Chapters:
    3/3
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    190
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    53
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    19 Jun 2018

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    Bookmarker's Notes

    When I talked to folks in Aqaba I got a lot of strong opinions and I got a lot of mixed opinions and I got a lot of conflicting opinions and mostly what I got was even more confused. Hebrew is the language they speak in Israel, is what I was told, and to tell you the truth that shocked me more than Israel being there at all. We spoke Yiddish at home like everyone back when, but we got taught in English and Hebrew at yeshiva and the Hasid kids didn't like that at all. Hebrew to them was straight off the lips of God and using it for anything but Torah was the worst kind of bad behavior, and they made no secret of how they thought we were desecrators and our teachers frauds. I tried to imagine a whole country full of Jews buying fruit and hailing taxis in the Holy Tongue without taking the mick out of each other and damn well could not. Three days I stayed in Aqaba climbing tall buildings so I could look at the border crossing over the hills. Three days I wandered the earthworks at Ayla. Three days I hemmed and hawed. Still napping through the day by habit like I'd done in the desert and waking every time the muezzins called. The old women in the souk shouted to me in the evenings when I wandered through bleary-eyed, brandishing paper twists of loqma and kunafeh at me and laughing when I tried to sweet-talk them. Go home yahud they said. Go to sleep. I don't know where that is I said. Do you have children they said. No I said, no. Very kindly they said: go home.

    In the end I went up through Jordan, walking the border and keeping my eyes on that fresh new country like a man watching a bear. I say new but it isn't new at all to the rest of the world is it. To everyone but you and me it's old news, sunshine. I guess they must've told you all about it. Did they sit you down in a classroom when they thawed you out? Did they tell you we cured polio? Did they tell you about that queer cancer? Did they tell you that you can marry whoever you want? How long till you found out we'd been into space? How long till you found out we dropped the bomb? Did they tell you about all the words you can't say and the countries that aren't there no more and the new ones that ate them up? Did you think of me when they did? I thought of you for no reason at all as I was riding that border; you never did have an opinion on Eretz Yisroel that I can recall. But I thought how you might've argued with the old men if you had, barging in and trying to figure out what the right thing was so you could go make it happen and damn the torpedoes. You would've made a good Jew, sweetheart. I don't know if that's a compliment exactly. But it's a fact.

  2. Rec *

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    Summary

    Captain America wakes up from the ice in 2013. The Winter Soldier wakes up in 2009, or rather defects from HYDRA, for a value of defect that’s closer to decimate. He ends up working for SHIELD. In April 2014, he’s assigned to Captain America’s mission as a sniper.

    Steve’s just trying to get some kind of life together. Bucky is too, or at least he was until tall, blond and Captain shows up and starts just - being there, all the time. It’s terrible. It’s the worst. He has to do something about it.

    Language:
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    2/?
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    18 Jun 2018

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    Bookmarker's Notes

    oh my god this is magical

    And he lifts it over his head and carries it out of the store without any trouble, although he feels sort of self-conscious when people on the sidewalk stop to stare. But he gets it upstairs, and then he has a couch. And glasses he could put water in. And if someone came to visit he could offer them a place to sit, facing a blank wall, and a glass of tap water.

    ****

    Everyone speaks around the details and Bucky’s not sure how or who or what to ask but he knows he wants Steve. He wants Steve the way he once saw a video online of a puppy climb into its own food bowl while eating and then fall asleep in it. He wants Steve like he wants to reach into make-up tutorial videos and touch all the brushes. He wants Steve to do a make-up tutorial, to soak up Steve’s smell that's so much like his voice, all deep and low and good while he talks about nice things like how matte is obviously superior when doing cut creases, but mostly Steve should just have the brushes and use them to gently trace over Bucky’s cheekbones and forehead and -

    HR would probably have a lot to say about these thoughts.

  3. Rec *

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    Summary

    You take the arm off four days later.

    Series
    Language:
    English
    Words:
    25,957
    Chapters:
    9/9
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    529
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    2035
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    677
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    27434

    17 Jun 2018

    Bookmarker's Tags:
    Bookmarker's Notes

    Do you ever think,” you say, and stop. You say: “About what they took.”

    “I used to,” Natalia says. “But then I realized I was letting them win. Wasting time thinking about it? They were taking even more.”

    “But.” You think about the years. You try to work it out, but you can't. The numbers slip away. Too many gaps. “I lost. A whole life. I want—”

    Natalia waits, but you don't know what you want.

    “Would you want it back?” she says. “Would you rather have survived him, and married a woman who reminded you of your mother, and had ten babies, and died in your sleep before he woke up?” You make a noise in your throat, but Natalia talks over you. “I'm not saying you should be grateful to them, James. If anyone is allowed to spend ten years mourning, it's you. But why should you? Why should you let them have more of your years?"

    You open your eyes. Natalia is bending over you. Lips drawn back, almost a snarl.

    “You want to beat them? Go ahead. Kick them in the teeth. Light the body on fire and piss on the ashes. And then walk away. Try everything. Do something. Learn how to fly a plane. Drink cherry soda until you're sick of it. Kill a few plants. Break a few plates. Be a person.”

    “I don't know how,” you say.

    “Nobody does,” Natalia says. Her face, softer. “That's the big secret. Children think the adults know what they're doing. They think they'll know too, when they're older. But everyone's just faking it. We're all children. There's only one rule: you have to start somewhere. What are you going to do?”

    You breathe like Sam taught you. In: you push your belly to the ceiling. Out: you push it to your spine. In. Out. Her small dry hand on your forehead. You curl your toes in the sunshine.

    “Do you know,” you say, “How to make medovik?”

  4. Rec *

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    Steve breathes a sigh of relief. Instead of giving in to his impulse to shout invective, to demand to know why Bucky broke camp without telling anyone, why he keeps doing that, Steve says: “Who you talking to, Buck?”

    Bucky pats something on the ground and shifts his leg.

    Language:
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    1/1
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    15 Jun 2018

    Bookmarker's Tags:
    Bookmarker's Notes

    It's all little things, things he's not sure anyone else would have noticed, not unless they'd known Bucky for as many years as he has. It's in the way Bucky was up and running from that table so quickly. It's in the way Bucky walked for three straight days, hardly eating, his eyes fixed stone-solid on the road ahead. It's in the way that Bucky never misses a shot when they're in the field, even at distances Steve thinks are outright impossible, and the way his gift mysteriously shrinks into mere skill when they're back in camp. It's in the way Steve knows, absolutely knows for certain that Bucky was shot in the stomach with an armour-piercing round last month, and it should have killed him, and it didn't. It's in the scars Bucky doesn't keep.

  5. Rec 71

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    It had sent him to his knees.

    Language:
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    14 Jun 2018

    Bookmarker's Tags:
    Bookmarker's Notes

    Is there nothing this writer does that isn't magical:

    It had sent him to his knees. The reel reversing all at once. It wasn't like a sound at all but he thought of something being struck. The universe popping back into place like a joint. It was the biggest thing he'd ever felt, bigger than the chamber, bigger than the plane hitting the water, bigger than a portal in the sky, in New York, on a sunny Tuesday. He'd thought about the people, of course, the people everywhere, and he'd imagined ash billowing high, the scaffolding of faces reforming, dropped glasses skittering together on parquet floors and leaping up, up, into a hundred million hands; he'd felt it all. But he'd wondered, too, about the uncomprehending minds, the animal life: silty creatures in the rivers and birds crying out in confused circles and the simpler things, plankton and sea stars and glassy diatoms, and down in the crushing deep there were fish without eyes and senses he can't begin to imagine: what had they felt? When the Earth rang like a bell?

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